“Wow. Those are some sweaty palms you got there, sugar rump.” He smiles just as the door swings open.
Lainey is dressed like a pink princess in a frilly dress and tiara. I’m sort of speechless and I see Hunter is, too. Because that is some outfit.
Her brown eyes wash over me with disdain and then move to Hunter. He’s looking exceptionally hot tonight in a pair of well-loved button flies, a short-sleeved blue Polo that matches his eyes and a pair of leather flip-flops. Normally, I’d turn my nose up at a guy in beachwear in the middle of Texas, but Hunter has the nicest toes I’ve ever seen. They’re downright beautiful. And with his tall, athletic frame, he looks like Mr. Perfect Boyfriend just out for a casual night with his girl.
Even Lainey, the snob to end all snobs, can’t take her eyes off him.
“Eh-hem. Can we come in?” I ask.
Lainey snaps out of her lusty trance. “Ah. Yes. That’ll be five dollars per couple. Wait. No. Make that ten because you’re an Alpha, which requires additional insurance,” she says to Hunter.
Hunter stares at her like she’s some ridiculous bug he’s not sure what to make of and then reaches for his wallet. “Here’s twenty. Keep the change.” Slightly limping, he steps inside past her like she’s nothing but an opponent on the field he’d sooner push over than speak to.
We immediately see the living room is packed with people getting ready for the movie marathon, piling up on the couch and cushions. Hunter steps forward, and I watch those shoulders square in preparation for his entrance.
Like me, Hunter is not shy. He never has been. Never will be. And when he walks into a room, he always does the same thing: stops where everyone can see him, makes eye contact with as many people as possible to let them know he’s there, and then he cracks that panty-melting smile, which serves two purposes: One, melting panties. Two, signaling to the other alphas in the room they should make friends with him because he’s a fucking bigger, badder alpha. Everyone wants to fuck him or be him.
Or both?
I’ve watched him do this a million different times over the years—usually while I’m sticking my finger down my throat, making a gag sound—but it never ceased to amaze me how effective his technique worked. Only, tonight, we’re in my world.
“Wait.” I grab his elbow and look up at him. “That won’t work here.”
He crinkles those perfect straight brows in question.
“Watch and learn.” I step past him and enter the room, still holding his hand. I stop in the doorway and several people turn to see who’s joined the festivities. I turn to Hunter and hold his hand over my heart. “Listen, Rose. You’re gonna get out of here, you’re gonna go on and you’re gonna make lots of babies, and you’re gonna watch them grow.”
Everyone claps and laughs, so I take a little bow, not letting go of Hunter’s hand. “Thank you. Thank you. My heart will go on.” I stand straight and gesture to Hunt. “Everyone, this is Hunter, my Jack Dawson for the evening.”
The reception is warm, and I lead him to the back of the room to one of two rows of fold-out chairs. We take the seats on the end, him on the outside.
“What was that?” he whispers in my ear.
“Nerd talk. I’m fluent,” I whisper back. Really, it was just the best line from the movie. Anyone with a vagina would know that. And most of the girls here own a copy.
He chuckles softly with that incredibly deep voice that sounds like the Pied Piper’s X-rated flute. I don’t know how I’ve overlooked his blatant, sexual magnetism, but now that I’m tuned into his station, I can’t seem to shut it off.
“I thought you were supposed to be acting like an airheaded slut tonight,” he whispers.
“Oh. Shoot. I forgot.” I take my hand, pretend to open up the top of my head and then pluck out my brain and throw it on the floor. “There. All set.”
“Okay, babe.” He places his strong hand on my thigh. “Just let me know when you want the groveling to begin.”
I nod, but look ahead. My body is shaking. Please don’t notice. Please don’t—
“Are you nervous?” Hunter whispers, sounding surprised.
Darn it. “No.”
“Hmmm…because I could swear your hand is shaking.”
I snap it away. “I’m just cold.”
He smirks. “As is customary when it’s ninety degrees outside.”
It’s not much cooler inside with all of the bodies packed in this room, so he’s got me. Yes, again.
“I meant…I just got a little chill. I must be ovulating or something.” Why did I say that? I look down at the floor, longing for my brain.
“TMI, Tass.” He chuckles.
I giggle in a loud, high-pitched voice, pretending like I meant to say it as part of my act. “Oh, Hunter—heeheehee—you’re so funny.”
He leans in. “I don’t think anyone is going to buy a guy like me falling in love with that stoned chipmunk impression of yours.”
I frown. “Okay,” I say in a low, low voice, “how about a gorilla?”
He wrinkles his nose at me. “You know what? Just let me do all the work tonight. You just sit there and look pretty—something you’re good at.” He slides his hand up my thigh, and I swear it feels like his fingers are inside my panties.
Within the space of two breaths, I’m aching from his touch. Then there’s the fact that he just said I look pretty. He’s managed to simultaneously pet my ego and my c-spot, though I’m sure that wasn’t his intent. Everyone knows that Hunter’s type is blonde, busty, and bubbly. The exact opposite of me. Brunette, budding, and brainy.
I slide his hand away and cross my legs in the opposite direction.
He puts his hand back over the top of my thigh and glides it under the hem of my short dress to where he can practically touch the seam of my panties.
“Stop that,” I whisper.
“Oh, but I can’t keep my hands off you.” He gives my thigh a little squeeze with that big strong hand.
I yelp and jump from my seat.
We’re at the back of the room, so only a few people notice.
I look down at Hunter and scowl. “Stop that,” I hiss.
He fails at biting back a smile. “Sorry, babe,” he says nice and loud, “I just can’t help myself. You look too hot in that little dress.”
His deep voice elicits attention from the noisy room of approximately fifty people, including Jessica, who’s just put the movie on a flat screen mounted to the wall. Lainey is still over in the foyer, greeting people and taking money.
I sit back down with a tight sneer on my lips. He has absolutely no idea what he’s doing to me. I’m so turned on that my nipples are poking right through the fabric of my bra and thin dress.
“Wow, Tass. You really are cold.” He glances down at my breasts.
I’m going to die. I cross my arms over my chest. “Eyes up here, big guy.”
“Nope. I’m liking the view down there.” He continues staring at my chest. “Hey. I can’t help if I like looking at you.” He lowers his voice. “I just wish you were wearing those big sexy glasses. I kinda have a thing for them.”
Huh?
He stands up.
“Where are you going?” I ask, barely able to breathe straight.
“To find you a blanket.” He walks along the side of the room, and all female eyes are glued to him. Mine included.
That man makes me hot. Really hot.
One of the sorority sisters seated in front of me turns around. “So is that the Alpha guy you made a bet on with Lainey?”
“Yeah.” I’m not surprised she knows. They all do.
“Ohmygod. He’s smokin’. No wonder they accused you of being into him.”
Well, now I am. How’s that for irony?
I shrug as if to say “Oh well. Watcha gonna do?”
“I know, right?” she says. “As if any of us would really date a dumb jock like that. I have socks with a higher IQ.” She snorts.
My right hand balls into a fist. I
absolutely do not appreciate anyone talking about Hunter in this manner. Yes, I get that a handful of days ago, I was no different than her—a hater. But now I know that being better than someone else doesn’t come from the brain; it comes from the heart. You can’t smart your way to goodness. You just can’t.
She goes on, “What’s the difference between a paperweight and a football player?” She snickers. “At least the paperweight has a use.”
I shoot up from my chair, holding back the urge to tell her to shove it. “I should go look for him. He probably got lost on the way to the bathroom,” I say through clenched teeth.
She cracks up. “Good one.”
I was being sarcastic, you judgmental sow rectum.
I head from the room to find Hunter. I’m not staying here one more minute and listening to these people slam him. They don’t even know the guy!
Yes, fine! I’m a hypocrite. But they didn’t endure over a decade of suffering with the egotistical man. I earned the right to judge him!
Yet…I never really knew him. Did I?
I stop in the foyer, reeling with anger. Not at the Tri-Kapps, necessarily, but at myself. How could I have ever believed that putting people down like that was okay? What the hell was wrong with me?
I hear Hunter’s signature deep voice and follow the sound through a short hallway into the large kitchen. It’s one of those open types with a big island in the middle and white cupboards. Lainey’s leaning up against the counter in her pink monstrosity, giggling, and Hunter’s standing there having some sort of chat with her.
I can’t believe this. She’s batting her eyelashes and acting all coy. What a troll!
“There you are!” I say.
Hunter turns his head. “Hey, babe. I was just chatting with your friend Lainey about—”
“We’re leaving,” I say.
His smile melts away. “Did something happen?”
I got a wake-up call from the universe. She says it’s time to get my head out of my ass. “Actually, yes. But I’ll explain on the way back to the dorms.”
“Uh, okay.” He looks at Lainey. “Nice meeting you.”
“Nice meeting you, too,” she says in a saucy-minx voice.
I literally want to scratch out her eyes. “I’ll meet you outside, Hunter. I need to talk to Lainey for a moment.”
He nods stiffly. “Sure.”
I wait until he’s out of the room before I turn to Lainey with the intention of telling her what a disgusting human being she is, but she starts laughing, hitting her knee.
“Oh my, Tassie. You were totally right. Act a little stupid and like you’re desperate for sex, and guys like him are all in.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You win. Completely.” She holds up her hands. “Welcome to Kappa Kappa Kappa.”
“I’m confused.”
“What’s there to be confused about? Everything you said is true. It isn’t hard for girls like us to get a dumb jock like that.” She leans in. “I think I might even take him for a ride—teach him a few lessons, if you know what I mean?”
White rage dots my vision. Before I know what I’m doing, my hand is up in the air, cocking back and flying forward with all five digits stretched for action. My palm meets her cheek with such force that her head whips to the side.
“He is not a dumb jock, you crack rat,” I snarl.
Lainey’s brown eyes go wide and she cups her cheek. Within a split second, her face turns fire engine red. “You dirty little dwarf star!” She lunges, and I reach for the neck of her stupid pink dress, yanking it to the side, hoping to throw her off balance. Instead, I just tear the front, exposing her pink bra. Stuffed pink bra. The white tissue pops out like a groundhog on his favorite day.
She gasps and then snarls. “You’re gonna die!”
I don’t know what I’m doing, my body is in control now, but my fist cranks back, and I pop her right in the boob (padded, so no effect), and she grabs hold of my curly hair.
“Hey! Break it up!” With his strong arms, Hunter pulls us apart like two-year-olds fighting over a toy.
“I’ll kill you!” Lainey screams.
“You’re too stupid to kill me!”
Hunter pries us apart.
“Get out, and take that bucket of andesite with you!” she screams.
“He is not made of lava rocks. He’s more like granite. Or fine marble! Don’t you see those muscles?” I yell, pointing to Hunter. “The muscles you just told me you wanted to hump?”
Lainey’s head jerks back. “I said no such thing!”
“Oh, yes, you did! And you know what, you mealworm brain?” I point my finger in her face. “He wouldn’t screw you if you showed up at his door with an extra box of tissue in your bra and a bucket of lube in your hand!”
“Out!” She points toward the door. “You’re not welcome here. We don’t allow scum like you in our sorority.”
“Correction. It’s the only thing you allow.” I look at Hunter, who’s positively amused.
“Let’s go,” I snap.
He looks down at me and cracks the widest, most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. Those dimples underneath his dark stubble are so deep you could park an eco-friendly car in them.
“I’ll be right there,” he says.
Huh? “I really think—”
“Wait for me outside,” he orders.
“Why?” I ask.
He looks into my eyes. “Because you trust me,” he says softly.
I do, of course, but that doesn’t make his request any stranger.
“Oh, okay.” I head for the door, but slow my steps before I actually get to it. Why did he ask me to leave?
Suddenly I hear, “You prick!” ring through the air.
Hunter comes from the kitchen, laughing.
“What was that about?” I ask.
He opens the door. “I told her we stole her vibrator collection the other night, too.”
“What?”
He nods. “She had ten.”
“No.”
“Yes. And she had names on them.”
We step outside and shut the front door. “Please tell me you’re kidding.”
“The biggest one was named Hunter,” he says with a giant smirk.
I laugh. And then I laugh harder. The tears form in my eyes, and I can barely breathe, so I bend over.
“You okay?” Hunter pats my back.
“Yeah.” I suck in some air. “Never better.” I stand up straight and look up at those big blue eyes.
“So you’re done with the Tri-Kapps, huh?” he asks.
I nod.
“You sure? Because I was really making some headway with her. She offered to come over and clean my dorm room.”
Bitch! It just goes to show that having a high IQ doesn’t mean you’re a good person. It doesn’t even mean you’re smart.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” I say.
His smile melts away. “What changed your mind, Tassie?”
I look down at my sandals. How do you tell a guy you’ve known since you were five, who you’ve hated for as many years, that you think you might like him? More than like him.
I clear my throat and bite the side of my lip. “Let’s just say that any club who won’t have you isn’t good enough for me.”
He jerks his head back. “That’s a change.”
“Sorry?” I thought he’d be flattered.
“How come I’m suddenly good enough for you now, after all these years?”
“You were never not good enough for me. What gave you that impression?”
“Everything.”
I blink and try to process that. I don’t want to say a word because my brain—the smart part—tells me there’s more I’ve blocked out aside from that horrible night over two years ago.
“I-I—”
“Come on. Let’s get you home.” He takes my hand. His feels warm and rough and safe.
I wrap my fingers around it and nod. “Sure.”
>
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Hunter didn’t say much aside from goodnight when we got to my door. And being that I felt thoroughly adrift in the ocean of angst, I didn’t attempt to engage. I said goodnight. He said goodnight. He walked away. I went inside my room.
“What!” I cringed. Thighs. Boobs. Balls. “Elle!” I had to scramble from the room again and wait for Elle to finish her stress-relief session. Ten minutes later, Henry emerged with a giant smile.
“Yeah. Yeah,” I pffed and went inside.
Elle was fast asleep under the covers, and I got into my PJs. I didn’t dream at all, but when I woke, I felt it all bubbling to a head.
I have to tell Hunter how I feel. And I need to know why he spent so much energy and effort hurting me all these years. And protecting me. I need to know how he feels. Which is why I’m now sitting in the bleachers after jogging—yes, jogging—me!—around the track at six a.m. on a Saturday morning. By six forty-five, the football team starts filtering in, looking like they’ve been chewed up and spit out by the margarita blender.
When I finally see Hunter, I jump to my feet and make my way down the bleachers to the side of the field. He sees me almost right away and heads straight for me.
“Didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, and I can’t determine if he’s happy or annoyed by that.
“I think we need to talk?” I have no clue why I made that sound like a question.
“All right.”
His tone tells me he expected this.
“I have practice for two hours,” he says.
“Oh, I thought you’d be sitting it out because of your ankle.”
“It’s sore, but I’m okay.”
“Oh.” I look at the ground and an awkward silence sifts between us.
“Later, a bunch of us are going to Henry’s folks’ cabin near Lake Travis since there’s no game this weekend. Why don’t you come?” he says.
The tone in his voice isn’t funny or flirty. It’s serious. Like he’s offering something that I should think about before accepting.
But I don’t need to think about it.
I nod.
“Good,” he says. “I’ll swing by your room in a few hours, around ten.”
I smile, but I don’t feel it. “Sure. Sounds good.” I turn to head back to my room, feeling him watch me. I have no clue what he’s thinking. I just know we both have a lot we’re not saying, and I’m not entirely sure his unsaid words won’t smash my heart into a thousand particles.